


62. quiet little voices

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [161]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:51:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8787946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: Every night before she goes to sleep the little voice in the back of her brain whispers please still be there. Like clockwork.Every night Sarah says: I’m still here.





	

Sarah can only hear her on the edge of sleep. She thinks “her” but it’s really her own voice – just a little different, a little rougher around the edges, like her own hair when she manages to hide from everyone who wants to brush it. She is seven years old and

every night before she goes to sleep the little voice in the back of her brain whispers _please still be there_. Like clockwork.

Every night Sarah says: _I’m still here._

That’s about as much as they ever talk, Sarah and the voice in the back of her brain. Sometimes she dreams that she’s in a crowd of people and a girl with her face runs up to her and takes her hands and says _I found you I found you I found you_ but that’s just a dream. She dreams about all sorts of things; that doesn’t make them real.

\--

Eight years old. _Please still be there._

Nine years old. _I’m still here._

Ten years old. _Please still be there._

Eleven years old. _I’m still here._

Twelve years old. _Please still be there. Please still be there you can’t leave please still be there._

 _I’m going away,_ Sarah thinks. Her suitcase is packed at the foot of the bed. “Toronto,” S had said, like it was some big adventure and not the end of the world.

 _They’re taking me away,_ says the voice in the back of her brain. _A man and a woman. They speak English. I’m scared._

 _I speak English_ , Sarah says. _So do you._

Silence. _No you don’t._

 _Yeah,_ Sarah says. She sits up and bangs her feet on the ground, like the voice can hear her. _Piss off, you just said “no you don’t”!_

_Yes. That’s what I said._

Sarah gives up. She flops back down on the bed. _They’re taking me away too,_ she says. _S’posed to be good for us, but._ Her eyes droop closed without her wanting them to. _I don’t want to go._

_I don’t want to go._

_This place, it’s—_

_—what I know._

\--

It’s just after lunch in Toronto when the voice in the back of Sarah’s brain says: _please still be there._

It’s fuzzier when she’s awake. She almost misses it; it’s like a tickle in the back of her head, not an actual voice. The smallest and quietest whisper.

 _Yeah,_ she says. She didn’t realize she would have been upset if the voice was gone – but it’s back now, and she’s relieved, and she would have been upset if the voice was gone.

 _What happened to you_ , whispers the voice in the back of her brain. Sarah can’t tell if it’s terrified, or if that’s just her being awake.

 _Do you have a name?_ Sarah says, instead of answering.

A thoughtful pause, and then the voice says something that Sarah can’t hear over the sound of Felix jostling her. “Hey, S says we can get ice cream.”

“Go away,” Sarah says, shoving him with her shoulder, “I’m doing somethin’ important.”

“No you’re not!” Felix says. “You’re just frowning at nothing, I see you.”

— _I had a friend that—_

“Shut _up!_ ” Sarah says. “You’re ruining _everything!_ ”

— _bellybutton—_

“I’m gonna tell S you’re yelling!” Felix yells. “She’s gonna ground you for a week!”

“ _Good!_ ” Sarah yells back. “I hate it here, I wish you were all dead!” She storms to her room. The voice is still going; Sarah lies down on her bed, closes her eyes tight, and wills herself to fall asleep. She doesn’t.

— _the light. So maybe it won’t be so bad._

 _I hope so,_ Sarah says. She missed the whole speech; she feels guilty, but something stops her from saying anything.

 _So_ , says the voice. _Like I said. You can just call me Head._

 _Head?_ Sarah says, burying her face in the sheets that don’t smell anything like home.

 _Yes_ , says Head.

 _Great_ , says Sarah, so she doesn’t say _that’s a terrible name_ or _where did that even come from_ or anything else that meant she wasn’t paying attention to the speech.

 _And you’re Brain_.

 _That’s not my name_.

 _It could be,_ says Head thoughtfully. _I think that’s really what counts._

\--

Sarah grows up. The voice fades: sometimes it comes at noon, sometimes in the evening. Some days it doesn’t come at all. Sarah lets herself forget about it; it’s easy to, when it is just snatches of static on the dial.

Thirteen years old. _—purpose—_

Fourteen years old. _—the puppy, but I didn’t want to—_

Fifteen. — _please still b—_

Sixteen. — _nly one like me in the world and I thought you w—_

Seventeen. — _pillow over her face but it didn’t stop her from – another one – lonely – please still be there please still be there please still be there—_

Eighteen. — _bellybutton – didn’t go away but you – said – wanted – thought you were r—_

Nineteen. — _hungry_ —

Twenty. — _lonely—_

Twenty-one. — _please—_

Twenty-two. — _please—_

Twenty-three.

Twenty-four.

Twenty-five.

Twenty-six.

Twenty-seven.

Twenty-eight. _Are you still there?_

Sarah’s eyes snap open in the dark of Beth’s bedroom. Next to her Paul is asleep and in the back of her mind is a voice like a twist of smoke, soft and bitter. _I’m not insane_ , she thinks to herself.

_I didn’t say you were._

_I’m not going insane_ , Sarah thinks furiously at the voice in the back of her brain. _This isn’t me going insane, I’m not insane, this isn’t happening._

 _Yes,_ says the voice, _and yes, and no._ A pause. _You left. You left me behind. I was alone. Just me and scorpion whispers, for years and years._ Another pause. _Were you happy, where you were? You were worried before, about moving. About changing._

 _Please just be quiet_ , Sarah thinks. _I was a kid, I had an imaginary friend, but you’ve got real shitty timing coming back now._

 _I wonder,_ says the voice in the back of her brain (that she’s refusing to call her shitty childhood nickname, she won’t, this isn’t _happening_ ). _I just arrived at a brand-new place. Is this your place?_

 _I always thought you were real,_ whispers the voice that – sounds less and less like Sarah’s voice, now. _Are you there? Are you out there somewhere in Toronto, Brain?_

 _I told you that wasn’t my name_ , Sarah says, slipping back into the pattern despite herself.

 _You can tell me what it is, now,_ says the voice. _If you want._

_No thanks._

_Can I guess?_

_No._

_Is it Beth?_

Sarah freezes in the dark, eyes wide open. It’s just her brain. It’s just her brain making shit up. She’s going crazy, that’s all. She’s not – telepathic, or something, it’s just a voice in her brain so of course it knows what her brain knows. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s—

 _Oh,_ whispers the voice, soft and soft. _Then I’ll see you soon._

 _What?_ Sarah thinks, feeling the pounding drumming of her heart. But there’s nothing; just an empty space where the voice sometimes is. Sometimes was. Sometimes doesn’t exist. But it doesn’t matter: Sarah lies there awake in the dark anyways, fearing and hoping and waiting just in case a voice in the back of her brain says her name.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


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